


Facing My Waterloo

by writingfanatic



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F, Fluff, References to ABBA, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6892561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanatic/pseuds/writingfanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol and Therese hear ABBA's "Waterloo" for the first time and think it's hilarious. Because of course it would be about Waterloo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Facing My Waterloo

**Author's Note:**

> Song lyrics belong to ABBA in their song, "Waterloo." I do not own any rights to the song; just sharing it as part of a ridiculous fluff-fest.
> 
> You can hear the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sj_9CiNkkn4

It had been a fairly quiet Sunday afternoon, save for the radio playing the latest pop songs interspersed with commercials for products nobody cared about. Carol and Therese lounged in their bathrobes as they each sipped a beer while enjoying the comfortable silence between them. Occasionally, Carol would tap Therese’s foot or rub the bottom of it with her toes, and Therese would smile, returning the movement in kind. They were two old ladies (as Carol had affectionately begun to call them) doing nothing at all but being perfectly lazy.  


The radio went quiet for a moment as a commercial ended, and returned with an aggressive, yet lively guitar intro that commanded the attention of its listener.  


_My, my! At Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender…_  


Carol grinned. Waterloo was a special word between them, and any time it was mentioned, even in its historical context, their minds retreated back to a small town somewhere in Iowa.  


_Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…_  


Both women’s heads were now turned to the radio as they realized this was an energetic love song rather than a historical pop ballad.  


_Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to. Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you. Whoa, whoa, whoa-oh, Waterloo! Finally facing my Waterloo._  


They stared at each other a moment, then both heads fell back as they roared with laughter. Carol’s hand reached for Therese’s, holding it as she said, “Is this what I think it is?”  


“I think someone wrote a song just for us.”  


They laughed again as Carol moved to cuddle close to Therese. “And here I thought ‘Easy Living’ was written just for us.”  


_My, my! I tried to hold you back but you were stronger. Oh yeah! And now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight. And how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose._  


They couldn’t stop laughing. Indeed, they wondered if someone had listened to the tapes and decided to write a song about it. Carol eyed Therese, opening her robe in the same fluid motion that she had years ago. Therese watched as she cupped Carol’s face with her hand.  


“I’ll have to get you this album,” she whispered.  


“Only if you play it on the piano first.”  


Their lips met as the song faded out. 

 

Carol listened to the front door open as Therese walked in, a crumpling sound announcing that she had brought something home with her. A quick glance confirmed her holding a wide, flat, square-shaped bag, with its content peeking over the top. Carol smiled at her lover, who returned it with an adorable, dimpled grin as she handed Carol the bag.  


“I haven’t heard it on piano yet,” Carol teased as she removed an album from the bag. On the front read “ABBA: Waterloo.”  


“I had trouble finding the music sheet to it,” Therese replied, kissing Carol’s cheek. “But I promise I’ll play it for you.”  


“If Mademoiselle would be so kind as to play it on the record player for now?”  


Therese took the record back and placed it gently on the player. Once again, the guitar intro demanded their attention. Carol laced her fingers with Therese’s and led her to the middle of the living room floor to dance. It was a wild, silly kind of dancing that had no rhythm, and they laughed whenever they tried to imitate the disco moves that they had sometimes seen young adults perform.  


“Again,” Carol requested when the song ended.  


By the time the song had played three times, both were on the couch, exhausted from their merriment. Therese turned her head toward her lover, struck by how this beautiful woman was beside her, how she had been for twenty-two years. Twenty-two years. Had it really been that long?  


Carol seemed to understand Therese’s thoughts. “Feels like it was only two years ago, doesn’t it?”  


Therese nodded. “We surrendered to each other that night.”  


Carol smiled fondly at her. “Waterloo was full of defeats, wasn’t it?”  


It might have seemed strange for Carol to reference what had happened the morning after, when she had held a gun on a private detective. But twenty-two years had taken away the sting of it, so that it was now a simple piece of history, with no more significance to it than a simple “It happened,” and a shrug.  


But the night before never lost its meaning. This is what they always remembered when they heard the word Waterloo: Carol untying her robe, a first kiss, a first night of lovemaking as they realized their feelings for each other.  


“Almost makes me want to go back,” Carol muttered, half to herself.  


“We can,” Therese replied, “but we don’t have to jump in a car and drive to do it.”  


Carol looked at her for a moment, then understood. Smiling, she stood up, made Therese get up with her, and led her into the bedroom. It would be like the first time again, and this time, there would be no P.I. taping them, no shadow of custody battles, and certainly no risk of scabies. They would face their own Waterloo again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Now if someone could go make a music video with the movie and this song, that would be wonderful. I'd do it, but I don't have that kind of talent (which is something other people let you know you have).


End file.
